Six Thousand Years
by ilovecastiel18
Summary: Post-canon. Aziraphale explains to Crowley that he has loved him for a long time, he was just scared of what Heaven would think. Crowley gets angry because Hell would have done worse, but he never hid his love. He leaves to think things over and comes back with a gift for Aziraphale and an apology. Hurt/Comfort, angst, romance, fluff, love confessions. One-Shot.


**Disclaimer: **Good Omens, along with its characters, locations, etc. are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet. If I owned the rights to it, I wouldn't still be desperate to meet the man that I absolutely ADORE: David Tennant.

**Summary: **Post-canon. Aziraphale explains to Crowley that he has loved him for a long time, he was just scared of what Heaven would think. Crowley gets angry because Hell would have done worse, but he never hid his love. He leaves to think things over and comes back with a gift for Aziraphale and an apology. Hurt/Comfort, angst, romance, fluff, love confessions. One-Shots.

….

Six Thousand Years

….

Aziraphale couldn't even begin to comprehend that he and Crowley had actually stopped the Apocalypse. He couldn't believe that they, along with four eleven-year-olds, a witch, two witchfinders, and a part-time prostitute, had saved the world. They had won.

They were also separated from Heaven and Hell, which meant that they could spend as much time with each other as they wanted, and do whatever they pleased. He and Crowley could go to lunch, go to dinner, walk through the park, spend time together in the bookshop, drink together… whatever they wanted to do, they could do it.

This was something that completely baffled Aziraphale. He simply couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that they were free. He was free to love Crowley, which was something that he had wished for since he had met the demon.

Not to say that he had been in love with Crowley since the Garden, that wouldn't be true. He hadn't come to terms with his feelings toward the demon until the 1940s, when Crowley had saved him from Nazis and saved his books from a bomb. No, he hadn't loved Crowley for six thousand years, but he had always been… curious. He had always wanted to spend more time with him, to figure out the enigma that was Anthony J. Crowley. So, to finally be free to do exactly that? It was… unimaginable.

This was what Aziraphale was thinking about as he and Crowley lounged in the backroom of the bookshop. They were sipping wine; Aziraphale was reading out loud while Crowley was curled up against his side, listening. They would never have considered doing something like this, or being so close, before the Apocalypse, but now… Aziraphale felt like he could do this nonstop for the next six millennia.

When Aziraphale finished a particularly long chapter, he bookmarked and closed the book, setting it aside and reaching up to stroke his fingers through Crowley's hair. He had a sudden urge to just… explain everything to Crowley. To say that he loved him and they could be together until the end of the universe.

"I love you, Crowley." He muttered, in a moment of bravery. He had wanted to say it for years, and now he finally had the chance.

"You what?" Crowley replied, startled. He quickly sat up from his position against Aziraphale, turning to face the angel. He had his sunglasses off, meaning Aziraphale could read every emotion flitting across his face. They ranged from confusion to happiness to sadness to anger.

"I love you, dear. I have for a long time." Aziraphale stroked his hand across Crowley's temple and traced a finger behind his ear and across the snake tattoo at his temple, but the demon drew back sharply.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Crowley snapped.

Aziraphale felt panic welling in his chest. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly. This was not going _at all _like he had thought.

"I _mean _that you have treated me as hardly more than a burden for the last six thousand years. Now, all of a sudden, you love me?" Crowley asked, scooting to the other end of the couch.

"Crowley, dear, I think…"

"No, I don't think you do. I know you care about me, Aziraphale, I'm not an idiot. But I don't want you to pretend you love me because you feel abandoned by Heaven." Crowley interrupted. "I think I'm worth a little more than that."

By now, Aziraphale had tears in his eyes. He moved toward Crowley, who stood and put more distance between them. He felt like his heart, his soul, was being torn into pieces. Like a battery ram had been taken to his chest, and all the little, smashed up bits of his heart were being stomped on.

"Crowley, I'm not just saying it because I feel abandoned. I _do _love you. I have considered you my friend for the last four thousand years, and I've felt a… different kind of love for you since you saved me from those Nazis. I just never showed it because if Heaven found out…" Aziraphale started to argue, started to reassure. He _could not _lose Crowley, not after everything they had been through.

"If Heaven found out?" Crowley scoffed. "What would Heaven have done if they found out? Would Gabriel had sent you a strongly worded note, like he did when you were using too many miracles? Would you have been taken to Heaven to fill out paperwork for a few hundred years?" Crowley didn't wait for an answer. "If Hell had even caught a _whiff _that I love you, I would have been _destroyed. _They would have tortured and killed me if they even found out we were _friends. _And yet, I never hid my love for you. I always treated you like a friend, or at least didn't treat you like a burden. And you never afforded me the same courtesy."

"Crowley…" Aziraphale felt a tear drip from his eye and trail down his cheek.

"I'm not saying you don't love me, angel. And I know we have been closer in the past few months, after the Apocalypse, than we ever have. I know that you care about me, but hearing you say it after so many years of treating me as nothing more than a business partner, while I have made it abundantly clear that I love you? I just…" Crowley paused, slowly walking toward the front door of the bookshop. "I just need some time to think."

"Crowley, wait!" Aziraphale tried to hurry after his friend, crying vehemently, but he heard the Bentley screech away right when he reached the door.

He sat down with his back against the door and cried for a long time.

….

It had been three months since Aziraphale confessed his love for Crowley, and Crowley promptly got angry and fled from the premises. Aziraphale was rather angry himself, after so long without hearing anything from the demon, but he was mostly sad and confused.

He had always known that Crowley loved him, and he had always assumed that Crowley knew that his love was reciprocated. When he had decided to tell Crowley that he loved him, something that was supposed to be obvious, he never expected the reaction that he got.

He had always felt the waves of love coming off Crowley whenever they were with each other, so he had rather expected a scene from a sappy romance novel. He expected Crowley to cuddle even closer to him and kiss his cheek and tell him that he had always loved him too.

He never expected him to get angry and leave for three months.

Aziraphale found that he had been rather gloomy since Crowley left. He never opened his bookshop any more, he hardly went out to eat or read any books. He spent most of his time lounging around the bookshop with alcohol, wishing that Crowley was there with him. If the demon didn't come back soon, Aziraphale felt like he might just go looking for him.

Today was a day just like any other, since Crowley left. Aziraphale was sitting on the couch in the backroom, sipping on his seventh glass of whiskey and seriously contemplating the idea of storming Crowley's flat and demanding they have a conversation.

Just as he came to the conclusion that he was going to do exactly that, and stood shakily from the couch, the front door of the bookshop banged open.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley called as he strode into the dark, dusty shop.

Aziraphale nearly cried with relief when he heard that voice. He forced himself to sober up, downed the rest of his glass (he had to have a little alcohol in his system), and walked into the main area of the bookshop. He snapped his fingers to turn on the lights and halfheartedly glared at Crowley. "Well?" he asked. He tried to deadpan, but his voice shook and cracked and he sounded as broken as he felt.

Crowley sighed and walked closer to Aziraphale, flinching when the angel backed away from him.

"Angel, I'm sorry." Crowley said quietly. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, or stormed off, or stayed away for that long. I was wrong." He tried to casually lean against a bookcase, but he looked tense and sad. "I just wasn't prepared to hear that or to deal with the feelings that came with it. But I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Aziraphale now felt childish for backing away from Crowley. He walked forward and stopped a few feet in front of his friend. "Well, everything you said was true…"

"That doesn't mean that I should have yelled at you about it. I always knew that you loved me, and that was always enough. But when you said it… I panicked. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." Crowley interrupted.

"Where did you go?" Aziraphale whispered, changing the topic.

"I travelled a bit. Went to Japan, Singapore, Brazil, and Egypt. When I went to Egypt, I found this ring… well, I thought you would like it. It reminded me of you, and how I took off and left you to worry, and I just… well, I came back. And I bought the ring, if you want…" Crowley pulled a red, velvet ring box from the pocket of his coat. "I'm not, like, proposing or anything. Not yet. But could we consider this… a guess a sort of promise ring? I promise I'll never abandon you again, and I'll always love you – until the end of time."

Crowley opened the ring box to reveal a golden snake ring. It consisted of three coils that wrapped around the finger, with the head of the snake, which was encrusted with a ruby, stretching to end just below the knuckle. The tail was also encrusted with a ruby. Of course, it was Aziraphale's size.

"This way, I'll always be with you, Aziraphale." Crowley muttered.

Aziraphale lifted the ring out of the box, tears in his eyes, and slipped it onto the ring finger of his left hand. "Thank you, Crowley. I don't think I can even begin to explain how worried and upset I was when you left…" he grasped Crowley's hand when a pained look crossed the demon's face. "I… erm… I know you weren't proposing, dear, but I still consider my heart to be yours. This ring will remain on this finger until the day I die."

"Ngk."

"I love you, Crowley. I hope you believe me." Aziraphale whispered, leaning forward so his face was gently resting against Crowley's shoulder. The demon wrapped his free hand, the one that wasn't being held by Aziraphale, around the angel's back and held on tightly.

"I've always known that, angel. I…" he trailed off, bringing their clasped hands up to Aziraphale's chin and forcing it up so they were making eye contact. "I've spent six _thousand _years loving you, Aziraphale. It wasn't always romantic love, like you said, but I have always cared about you, always wanted to spend more time with you. I am _so glad _that we have been released from Heaven and Hell, and we are free to do what we want. I am incredibly sorry for the way I treated you when you told me that you loved me. It was a shock, such a sudden change in our relationship that I lashed out. But I want you to know that I'm done running, and I'm done denying what I feel for you. I love you so much, angel…" Crowley leaned down and lightly kissed Aziraphale's forehead.

When he pulled back, Aziraphale stood on his tiptoes and planted a kiss right on Crowley's mouth, cupping his cheek with his left hand. After he pulled away, leaving Crowley spluttering, he stood and admired the ring for a moment.

"This really is lovely, dear." He muttered, replacing his head against Crowley's shoulder.

Crowley tightened his arm around Aziraphale, stroking his hand up and down the patch of skin between his wings. "Only the best for my angel."


End file.
